Dilaudid
by the little spanko
Summary: Hotch has to take Reid in hand. Spoilers for season 2.  CONTAINS SPANKING!  Written for Ficwriterjet's 25 prompt challenge for the prompt 'arrest.'


Reid sat in the chair, hyper aware of the sound the fluorescent lights made above him as two of the long bulbs flickered and the rest hummed, giving off their unnatural yellow hue. His thin frame felt cold and harshly treated as he sat in a hard chair with no stuffing next to the desk of his tormentor. The rest of the room buzzed with various conversations, his eyes scanned around, his heartbeat quickening when he saw the sort in his own predicament. He again tested the hold on his wrist, but it was cold and unyielding. Looking at his lap in avoidance was much better, he decided.

His tormentor returned, having talked to the floor chief, plopping down in his well stuffed desk chair. "I'll be giving your Hotchner a call now, see what he has to say for your story," the blubbery man with a moustache too long said. Reid was reminded of a walrus and wondered for a moment if the man ever inhaled his own bristles due to their length.

Reid chewed his lip and wrapped his free arm around himself, again looking at his lap. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his tormentor snort, pick up a pencil and jab in Hotch's number as he held the receiver under his pillowy chin.

Reid closed his eyes, a strange dizzying, chilled feeling swept over his body. He did not want Hotch to know – but who else could get him out of this?

"Is this agent Hotchner?" Tormentor asked, seemingly irritated at the possibility that this was, indeed, special agent Aaron Hotchner. "Mmm, I'm Detective Tyler – we picked up a Spencer Reid tonight. …yes. No. No, he's been placed under arrest for attempting to purchase Dilaudid. …yes. No, nothing's been filed yet. …_Is that so_?"

Reid couldn't help but look over at the sound of such disbelief in the man's voice. He looked angered and … as though he wasn't being allowed to do what he wanted to do. Was that right? Reid squinted at him through his oily hair, his perception off due to the craving.

"How soon can you get here?" Tormentor asked in a disappointed tone. "We'll be waiting," he said before slamming the receiver down. Huffing, he turned to glare at Reid, "Looks like it's your lucky day, kid." Then he got up and stormed off to report to his chief.

Reid was confused. He knew Hotch wouldn't lie for him and he knew what he had done was illegal. Hotch lived and breathed law, this made no sense. He tried to wrap his mind around it, tried calculating the possibilities, but couldn't get past the ache that rolled through him in trying to focus on anything. Instead, he rested his chin on his chest and tried to sleep through his wait.

"Guilty men sleep," he heard Tormentor say, and it scared him as he tried to get his eyes to open.

"That'll be all," Hotch said, anger and impatience for the tormentor clear in his voice.

When Reid finally opened and focused his eyes, he saw Hotch's face inches from his own, studying him closely.

"Hotch?" Reid asked in a squeak, meaning: You came for me? Is everything going to be ok? How did you get me out of this? What happens now? …Am I still on the team?

Hotch's lips pressed together tightly and he released a held breath. Reid had to look down due to the intensity in his team leader's eyes, it was too painful.

"Can you walk, Spencer?" Hotch asked with shocking gentleness, and Reid was surprised to note that his wrist was no longer cuffed to the desk.

"I think so," Reid answered as he tried to stand, embarrassed that his eyes were filling with tears – he was convinced that there was no reason for them to at this particular moment, but they did anyway.

Hotch reached out and steadied him, seeing as how the younger agent was slightly off balance. "Let's get you out of here," he said, deciding to let Reid believe that he had not seen the tears.

Reid self-hugged, his arms wrapped around himself tightly, as he allowed himself to be led to Hotch's car. Hotch held and shut the passenger door for him before climbing into the driver's seat.

Reid watched as Hotch sat for a moment before putting the key in the ignition, staring straight ahead. It scared the hell out of him, made him feel even more alone. He wished Gideon hadn't left him. It had triggered what he'd done tonight.

"I know you're hurting," Hotch said, shocking Spencer out of his own thoughts. "We all are, but I know that you are most of all. I should have seen this coming …" he broke off, sighing and looking down.

"I-It's not your fault," Spencer said quickly, his face aghast with the horror of what Hotch seemed to be feeling. "_I_ did this. I s-should…"

"I'm supposed to know when one of you is hurting and I'm _supposed_ to do something about it. I didn't do that," he held a hand up when Spencer tried to speak again, "that doesn't mean you won't take blame for your actions. You _will_ be held accountable; but, from now on I want to take an active role in your continued recovery."

Hotch had said it in a way that Spencer couldn't argue with, not that he wanted to argue. Instead, Spencer looked at his team leader with large, sad eyes and nodded vigorously.

Spencer pursed his lips before finally asking, "H-how did you get me out of there?"

Hotch held his gaze, but did not answer.

"…am…am I _safe_?" Spencer asked so quietly that Hotch could barely hear him.

"Yes," Hotch answered vaguely.

Releasing a deep breath, he nearly smiled and asked "What…what happens now?"

"Now I take you home and figure out what to do with you," Hotch said with an air to purposely worry the younger agent as he turned the key in the ignition.

Spencer looked at him with owlish eyes, feeling desolate and somewhat abandoned once more. "Hotch? …I…" he stopped and shook his head before looking out his window.

"You what, Spencer?" Hotch pressed, pulling onto the road.

Bowing his head, Spencer felt a rush of heat flood his face.

"You _**what**_, Spencer?" Hotch asked again, this time with a bit of irritation.

"…I d-don't …I don't think I should be alone. …the craving," Spencer stammered out, his face feeling hotter.

"You won't be," Hotch said, Spencer's head snapping up to look at him. "I'll be staying with you."

Spencer gawked at him, shocked. Hotch kept his eyes on the road as he drove them to Spencer's apartment. Once there, he parked the car, retrieved his go bag and made it to Spencer's car door before the younger agent could unbuckle his seatbelt.

Opening the door for him, Hotch leaned in, taking Spencer by his upper arm, "Let's get you inside."

Though said with kindness, Spencer could feel the disappointment and scold in the words. He allowed Hotch to pull him out of the car, and blinked rapidly as they approached his front door. Fumbling for the correct key, he jumped when Hotch snatched them out of his hand, finding the correct key on his second attempt.

Hotch let go of Spencer's arm, putting a hand on his back to usher him into the apartment. Once they were inside, Spencer wrapped his arms around himself and looked up at Hotch with large, sorry eyes.

Hotch, for his part, stared at Spencer with stern eyes that the younger agent was certain were boring right through him. Unable to keep from fidgeting, Spencer did his best to keep Hotch's gaze and wait for whatever his team leader had to say.

It wasn't too long of a wait.

"How long have you had the cravings?" Hotch said, barely moving his lips.

Spencer's eyes nearly bugged out of his head before his eyes swept the room guiltily.

"Spen-cer," Hotch reprimanded to get him talking.

It worked. Spencer bowed his head, looking up at Hotch sadly. "Three days."

"_**Three**__ days_. Three days you suffered without seeking help. "

Spencer blushed, looking at the floor and nodding.

Hotch stared at the young agent for another long moment. "You should have said something when it got bad."

Spencer tried to hide the fact that he was nearly crying. He was so tired and there was so much pain. He hadn't slept a full night since Gideon had left, and even before that – ever since Tobias – consecutive full nights of sleep had been rare. The nightmares were too terrifying. The craving was just so strong. He had gotten ahold of it, regained control – but then Gideon abandoned him. Gideon had left and Spencer had grown tired of fighting.

"I didn't think anyone would care," he said in a near whisper. Looking up in fear he quickly asked, "Am I off the team?"

"Didn't think anyone would care?" Hotch repeated back, hoping that Spencer would realize how ridiculous that was if he had the words said back to him. "Why would you think that?"

Spencer's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't find his voice. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut and shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

"That's not an answer," Hotch scolded.

"You weren't there for me after Tobias – not really," Spencer brooded. "No one was. …I'm not even sure why it bothered me; I should be used to people not caring." Spencer closed his eyes and huffed, upset with what he'd said – it was too honest, too unfiltered. The craving was subsiding, but the nervousness it left was making him feel angry. Hotch's questions weren't helping.

Hotch made no visible reaction for a long moment, and instead just stood and silently observed his young agent. Spencer could see the wheels turning behind Hotch's eyes and felt his anxiety spike at what the older man may be thinking.

"I can't lose my job," Spencer pleaded. "Please don't make me leave the team – I'm an asset..."

"I know you are," Hotch interrupted. "You're not being abandoned. We all care, and you're still on the team – for now." He stopped and took in Spencer's widening eyes at the implied threat. "But I won't be able to keep you on my team if this doesn't stop. This is a dangerous job; we need to be able to depend on each other. We can't put our lives in your hands when we don't know if you're using or plagued with cravings, and you've made it obvious that you feel you can't depend on us…"

"That's not true!"

"Isn't it?" Hotch said with a reproachful glare. "If you trusted that we cared, you'd of come to one of us."

"I didn't want you to know," Spencer squeaked meekly.

"Having cravings doesn't make you bad, it's what you do with those cravings," Hotch said. "Those drugs were forced in you against your will. Dilaudid is highly addictive; no one is going to think less of you as long as you fight it."

"I got tired of fighting," Spencer said sadly.

"Gideon?" Hotch asked simply, earning a nod from Spencer. "The rest of us don't matter?"

Spencer turned to Hotch, "That's not true!"

"Your actions say otherwise," Hotch admonished, making Spencer blush and fidget. Hotch watched him for a long moment. "You need more than what I've been giving you."

Spencer eyed Hotch warily out of the corner of his eye.

"What would Gideon have done with you if he were here?" Hotch asked in a way that suggested that he knew the answer. This fact made Spencer glare at him.

"If Gideon were here, I wouldn't have gone this far," he said in a snippy tone. "He would have interceded on day one."

Hotch narrowed his eyes and stared Spencer down. Spencer visibly deflated.

"If Gideon walked through your door right now, and I told him what you'd done, what would he do?"

Folding his arms awkwardly, Spencer turned away, "That has nothing to do with you."

"It does now," Hotch said ominously. He watched as the younger man looked back at him from over his shoulder, worry in his eyes as he all but pouted, arms folded and body tensed in defiance. It was like looking at a grumpy two year old.

"I think you should leave," Spencer said, trying his best to sound authoritative.

"No," Hotch said firmly.

Although happy on some level, Spencer huffed, not comfortable with this sudden interest due to the circumstances.

"You just told me that Gideon wouldn't have let this go so far," Hotch said before inclining his head to indicate he wanted a response.

"….yea," Spencer said hesitantly.

"So you recognize that you need someone in your life to support you, who will listen and help you, but who will also set limits and enforce consequences."

"That's not what I said," Spencer argued.

"It is – in a roundabout way," Hotch said. "We're going to get you through this, and before long you'll know without any doubt that I care."

Spencer gave him a look much like a lost puppy. "Okay Hotch," he said in a small voice, noticing a tingling warmth spread in his chest at Hotch's words. He'd always looked up to Hotch, almost as much as he idolized Gideon, and knowing that Hotch would be there for him had Spencer feeling loads better almost instantly.

Hotch nodded, "Good. … Spencer, we need to talk about what's expected of you and the consequences of not meeting those expectations."

Spencer pursed his lips and looked at the ceiling at the childish sound of Hotch's words, "…okay." He couldn't help the embarrassed grin that tugged at his lips.

Hotch fixed Spencer with a withering glare, "I'm serious. What you did tonight nearly cost you your career, not to mention the effect it would have had on your life in general – I don't think that's anything to act flippantly about."

"I don't either," Spencer said quickly, hands up in a placating manner.

Hotch regarded him with a silent glare for a long moment. "I know what Gideon would have done…"

"What? How?" Spencer nearly screeched.

"…and I agree with his methods."

The two stared at each other, Spencer with his mouth agape as he tried to fully comprehend what Hotch had just said.

"Well, I don't," Spencer insisted nervously, hoping that what Hotch was referring to and what he _thought_ Hotch was referring to were two very different things.

"That doesn't really matter. I already know it's effective with you. What did you do wrong, Spencer?" Hotch asked in a way that let Spencer know a decision had just been made.

"I really want you to leave. I'll go to a meeting tomorrow, I promise," Spencer said in one breath.

"_What did you do wrong, Spencer_?" Hotch repeated a bit more firmly.

Spencer's eyes moved from Hotch to around his apartment to Hotch as he emitted small mewling noises and ran a hand through his hair, the feeling of desperation rising.

"Answer me."

Spencer gave Hotch his most pathetic look and, seeing it had no effect, finally answered, "I didn't get help for the craving – I didn't trust any of you to care and I stopped fighting."

"What else."

Spencer took a shaky breath before proceeding, "I gave in and tried to buy Dilaudid. …I was arrested." By the last sentence, Spencer was staring at the floor, his long locks shielding his thin face like curtains.

"Those are four serious transgressions," Hotch said grimly, causing Spencer to glance up nervously. "Each will always result in the same consequence, Spencer."

Hotch began walking to the couch, waving Spencer over to him as he went.

Spencer stood rooted in place, a look of sheer horror on his face.

"Come here," Hotch said quietly, turning to face Spencer once he'd reached the couch.

Spencer shook his head and took a step backwards.

"I know Gideon spanked you," Hotch raised his hand to calm the outrage that flashed across Spencer's face, "he didn't betray your trust, I almost walked in on it six months ago. I was worried, I confronted him and he explained. I know how he did it and I'll do it the same way. Don't be scared, come here."

Spencer cringed, "He told you _how_?"

"Yes. Don't make me repeat myself again," Hotch warned, again motioning for Spencer to come to him. "Come. Here."

"I don't want to do this," Spencer said flatly, taking another step backwards.

Hotch quickly closed the space between them before Spencer could react, taking hold of the younger man's arm.

"Then remember this feeling and learn from it," Hotch growled as he led the struggling young agent to the couch. Taking a seat, he pulled Spencer's slight form over his lap with ease.

"Hotch! Please! _Please_ don't," Spencer pleaded, tears already spilling down his face.

No attention was paid to Spencer's pleas as Hotch pulled him to his hip and raised his left hand high.

"I'm sorry! I won't do it again," Spencer begged frantically.

"I hope that's true. But this is for what you've already done," Hotch said, letting his hand land sharply across the middle of Spencer's bottom, causing the young man to yelp and buck.

"When you have a problem, you come to me. You _get help_ – understand?" Hotch said, landing swat after swat as Spencer tried to wriggle away, putting a good deal of his strength into each spank. "I don't ever want to see you ruin yourself!"

"I'll come to you! I'll get help! I'm sorry!" Spencer squeaked, crying freely as the spanking continued; his emotions already much too raw to withstand this stoically.

"I'm going to go easy on you for this transgression just this once, since I stood by and let it happen," Hotch said, stopping and resting his hand on the small of Spencer's back.

Spencer took a deep breath of relief and wiped his face. Then, "All that was just for _one_ transgression?" He looked back at Hotch fearfully.

Hotch tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, causing Spencer to gulp. Hotch raised his hand again and brought it down firmly to Spencer's left cheek.

"Ow!"

"You have to learn to trust us, Spencer. We all care for you deeply; we're like a family with all we go through. You're an important part of that family," Hotch said soothingly in contrast to the harsh swats he landed with every other word.

Soon, as the swats kept coming, Spencer was crying in earnest, "I do trust you! I'll do better, I promise!"

"You had better start showing it, unless you like this position," Hotch lectured.

"No, I'll show it! I will! **OW**! _Please_…" Spencer cried out as he tried to twist away from Hotch.

But Hotch had a firm grip, and even though Spencer wiggled as much as he could, Hotch still landed each swat with dead aim.

"Anything less is insulting. Remember that," Hotch said without remorse, grabbing Spencer's errant hand as the young man tried to shield himself.

He pulled Spencer forward, securing the hand in the small of Spencer's back as he gained better access to his target.

"_Ho-otch, I'm __**sorrrry**_," Spencer whined pitifully.

"You should be. How dare you give up? **How** [SWAT] **Dare** [SWAT] **You**?" [SWAT SWAT SWAT] Hotch lectured, his anger stronger now as he spanked harder.

"Aaaahaahaahoow," Spencer sobbed, mouth wide and body taut. "I didn't mean to!"

"Don't you _lie_ to me, Spencer, I know it was a conscious decision!" Hotch snapped in a rare show of raw emotion.

"I'm sorry! OWWW, you're hurting me!" Spencer cried, trying in vain to wrestle his arm free.

"You _ever_ give up on yourself again, and you'll get a _lot_ worse than this!" Hotch yelled, his voice slightly cracking in his anger. He spent the next few minutes spanking every last inch of Spencer's bottom and thighs, focusing on one spot until Spencer knew he couldn't take much more to that area. Only then, as though sensing this, would Hotch move on.

"No more, No More! Pl…PLLLEE," was all Spencer could get out between sobs as he thrashed about.

Hotch slowed considerably so that Spencer could get his breathing under control. Slow, hard swats rained down where thigh meets cheek, causing Spencer to buck and whimper with each connection.

"Tobias drugged you while he had you captive. The addiction isn't your fault," Hotch said more gently, the bulk of his anger spent. "That doesn't mean that you can continue to feed that addiction."

"I know," came Spencer's watery answer. "I don't want to use. Ah. I never wanted to be an addict. Ow…never even had a cigarette."

Hotch let go of Spencer's arm and stopped spanking and began patting his back, "I know, and you've done quite well at getting past this."

"Hmmph," Spencer chuckled in spite of himself, "until _now_." He wiped at his nose and face with the back of his sleeve.

Hotch pulled Spencer up to sit next to him on the couch. Spencer instantly adjusted himself so that he was sitting on his hip next to Hotch.

Giving him an affectionate look, Hotch asked, "Are you ok?"

Spencer blushed and looked at his lap. "Yea, I'm fine." Pursing his lips a few times, he looked up and said with a smile, "Thank you for getting me out of there. I was really scared!"

Hotch smirked, "I imagine anyone would be – you're welcome, Spencer."

Spencer's brow knitted together as he again pursed his lips a few times before finally asking "Why haven't you asked me when I last used?"

"Because I know when that was," Hotch said a-matter-of-factly. "It's easy to tell through your behaviour. I knew your cravings started again, too, your behaviour is different then as well."

"Heh," Spencer laughed with an amused grin, looking up at Hotch and then away before looking back again. "Heh, yea…ok. Guess that goes with being a profiler," he acknowledged jokingly.

Hotch smiled, "I guess it does. You'd been doing so good at fighting it that I thought you were ok. I was wrong." Hotch put an arm around his shoulders, "I'm sorry for that. I should have intervened before we got to this point."

"Does that mean I get to spank _you_?" Spencer joked.

Hotch smirked, "What was that?"

"Nothing! Nothing," Spencer squeaked playfully. Then he looked serious for a moment, "Are you really staying here? I'm feeling much better – **craving** wise anyway."

"I am. I'll take the couch and I'll give you a ride to work and to your meeting tomorrow," Hotch said. "But first we need to talk about what brought you to this point. The trigger."

For a moment, Spencer looked embarrassed and then slightly irritated. Finally, though, a look of peace came over him. "Thanks Hotch."

Hotch gave a reassuring smile and the two of them got to work deciphering and repairing what had happened to Spencer.


End file.
